Haiti, I remember you.
They call this an earthquake
But I remember you.
How we paralyzed your rebellions
Forced you to pay twenty-one billion dollars to France
For reclaiming your own freedom.
Haiti, how many ways you have paid for us.
And now, when your buildings crumble as the earth beneath you ruptures
Violently once again
Our reporters talk of your construction standards
Your dire poverty
Your “proclivity” for rebellion
Removes us from your history.
But I remember you Haiti.
I remember the Arawak people
The sugar cane fields
The Code Noir
Touissant in prison.
How it took 22 years and several failed attempts at re-enslavement
For France to recognize your independence
How it took the U.S. thirty-seven more, and later
with it’s own turn to master you, a nineteen year occupation
to control your people and pillage your resources
How, unsatiated, we backed Trujillo as he massacred your peasants
Helped install Papa Doc Duvalier and trained his notorious army
Overthrew Aristide not once, but twice. And now,
We will offer you “Aid”
Benevolently and bereft of history.
But I remember you, Haiti.
I remember the fault line
where the Spanish, French, and U.S. plates collide
For your bodies, your sugar, your coffee, your submission.
And I know this is no more natural than Katrina
because I live here on the San Andreas
and they say the big one is coming.
But Haiti, you are the Maldives, and I
Am the Netherlands.
And you are still paying debt to my banks
While I harbor your war criminals.
It is not much Haiti, but I remember.
-Stacie Szmonko
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